“So you’ve learned politics, philosophy, French, business and fashion at Princeton, but clearly you were a little slow in your dormitory studies. Penn would have served you better.” She glares. “Why? Because your college was filled with juvenile horndogs?” I ease behind her, and she stares at me questioningly through the mirror. Approaching Rose Calloway is like nearing a sleeping tiger. Every single time there’s a chance she’ll bite me. “No,” I whisper, pulling the collar of her robe to expose more of her neck. “Because I was there.” I press my lips lightly to her nape. And her whole body
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OH
